


Table for Two

by SolitaryScaup



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, and lets ian enjoy his boyfriend, fiona is actually nice to mickey for once, fuck sammi she doesn't exist, ian and mickey actually go on that date, it's what they deserve, just two happy boys in love, let mickey eat his steak, moo, s5e10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 12:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryScaup/pseuds/SolitaryScaup





	1. Love is a Battlefield

Their out-of-breath singing filled the night around them as they danced around each other, each of them doing his best to never let go of the other. 

“Heartache to heartache we stand (stand!),” they sang in unison as Ian jumped on Mickey’s back. 

“No promises, no demands (yeah!),” Ian yelled as he threw his fist in the air, hopping off of Mickey’s back and grabbing his backpack.

“Cause love is a battlefield,” they finished as Ian hurled his backpack in front of him and let out a carefree shriek. 

“You got fuckin’ trashed off one beer, bitch,” Mickey said with a massive smile as he slapped Ian’s back. 

“Yeah, I know. Finally something good about this fucking disease,” Ian responded with an equally massive smile. He paused for a moment and his smile disappeared. 

“Holy shit, I just realized something.” 

“What’s up?” Mickey said, turning around to face him. 

“We’ve never actually been on a real date.”

“Bullshit,” Mickey replied instantly.

“No, I’m serious. Like-like a date where you sit down and you go to a nice restaurant and you put on a nice shirt and you, like, eat with utensils,” Ian said all in one breath. Mickey raised his eyebrows.

“You wanna do that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Like at Sizzler’s?”

“Sure.”

“You mean _now_?” Mickey asked incredulously. 

“Now before I sober up and get all fucking weird again. Come on,” Ian said as he put an arm around Mickey.

“Alright,” Mickey said, lightly laughing. “Can I borrow a fuckin’ shirt, then, please?”

“Yeah, you can borrow a shirt,” Ian said fondly. 

“Good,” Mickey said, then paused briefly.

“Cause love is a battlefield!” they continued singing as they walked into the house. 

\-----

When they entered, Fiona was sitting on the couch with a beer. She saw the two boys with their arms around each other and smiled.

“Hey, Ian.”

“Hey,” he responded. “We’re going on a date.”

“Fuck yes we are,” Mickey chimed in. “I’m gonna get a steak so rare it’s gonna scream when I bite it. Like-” he began mooing and Ian joined in. Fiona chuckled lightly and raised her beer. 

“Honestly, never thought you two would make it this far,” she said as-a-matter-of-factly. “But I’m glad you did. Have fun.” Ian smiled and Mickey looked smug. 

“Thanks, Fi.” 

\-----

They continued to hold onto each other as they climbed the stairs to the room, giggling softly every time Ian stumbled. 

“Can’t believe you’re making me take your drunk ass out to dinner,” Mickey said affectionately. Ian grinned at him then began to take their coats off, throwing them on the ground. He ransacked the dresser looking for “nice shirts” and stopped when he found one for Mickey. It was a navy long sleeve button up that nobody had worn for ages. He held it up and raised an eyebrow. Mickey took it and stripped himself of the shirt he was currently wearing. When he began to button it up, Ian grabbed his hands.

“I got it,” he said gently. He started at the bottom and worked his way up slowly, teasing Mickey with quick glances upwards every so often. Mickey grew restless quickly and went to kiss Ian but was met with a hand preventing him from moving any further.

“Easy there, hotshot. Everybody knows you’re supposed to kiss _after_ the first date,” he said devilishly. Mickey groaned painfully. 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not until, like, at _least_ the third date. We’ll see how things go,” he continued teasing. Mickey smiled, shaking his head. 

“Whatever. Just hurry up and get dressed so we can go. I think we got about two hours or something before it closes.” Ian gave Mickey one last mischievous look and continued searching for a shirt. He was going through them when Mickey spoke.

“That one,” he said, pointing to an olive-colored short sleeve button up.

“You want me to freeze my ass off or something?” Ian asked.

“Naw. Just wanna see those sexy arms and think about ‘em pinning me down while I’m eating my steak,” he said wickedly. Ian rolled his eyes and laughed, then began putting the shirt on. As he finished buttoning, he looked up at Mickey. He had never seen him look so at ease. His eyes were relaxed and looking back at him with a love he had never felt before. Ian felt what he thought was his heart skipping a beat. He knew it was corny, but he couldn’t help it. 

“You ready to go on a fuckin’ date or what?” Mickey asked contentedly. Ian smiled.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”


	2. Real Fuckin' Rare

While they were walking, Mickey failed to hide how nervous he was. Ian tried his best to calm him down. 

“So some chick asks us how many people are eating? Do I answer her? Do you? I just say ‘two’? Do you want to answer?” he continued shooting questions at Ian.

“Listen, I’ll handle it if you’re nervous,” Ian offered. Mickey squinted at Ian.

“I’m not fuckin’ nervous. Just making sure,” he lied. 

Ian shrugged. “Alright.”

\-----

Only when they arrived at the restaurant did they realize that they probably should have cleaned the blood on their faces from their previous fight-then-make out session. 

“Think they’ll let us in lookin’ like this?” Mickey asked somewhat seriously, biting his lip. 

“As long as we pay ‘em, we could have pigeon shit in our hair for all they care,” Ian answered reassuringly. Mickey nodded. They looked at each other for a moment, then walked inside. Their noses were met instantly with the smell of perfectly-grilled meat and their ears with the almost deafening sizzling sound that seemed to surround them. Ian watched Mickey as he took in every inch of the restaurant, almost like he would never see anything like it again. His eyes were filled with excitement and a small smile was forcing itself upon his lips. 

“Gee, Mick. If I’d known you’d be this excited about eating out I would’ve taken you ages ago,” Ian joked. 

“Right. Like I would’ve agreed to that,” Mickey said sarcastically. Just as Ian was about to respond, a waitress began walking towards them with an almost convincing smile that hid her concern for the blood covering their faces. 

“Hi, welcome to Ronny’s! How many?” she asked, her voice reaching an unreasonably high pitch. Ian looked at Mickey expectantly.

“Uh, two,” he said after making eye contact with Ian and nodding. She nodded and somehow smiled even larger while she grabbed two menus.

“Would you prefer a booth or a table?” she asked while looking at Mickey. Ian saw his eyes widen slightly and heard him mumble something about whatever she thought was best.

“We’ll take a booth, please,” Ian intervened, much to Mickey’s relief. She nodded and began leading them to their seats. They both sat down and opened their menus.

“Sean will be your server tonight. Enjoy your meal!” she said before walking away. Mickey already looked like he had a headache just by listening to her speak for two minutes.

“Does she gotta be so fuckin’ peppy?” he asked, annoyed. 

Ian laughed. “Well, yeah.” 

Mickey sighed. “Whatever. Sean sounds like he’s gonna be a dude. Better be ugly as fuck. Can’t have you leaving me for some lame-ass server boy,” Mickey said, fumbling with the utensils in front of him. Ian grabbed Mickey's hands and he stopped fumbling.

“Hey. I’m here with _you_. Not the lame-ass server boy,” Ian said, trying to reassure him. 

Mickey looked up at him and smiled. “Better be.”

Moments later, Sean arrived. He was actually pretty attractive. Mickey made sure to keep intense eye contact with him at all times.

“Welcome to Ronny’s, my name is Sean and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you guys to drink?” he asked, clearly checking Ian out. Mickey cleared his throat loudly. 

“I’ll have a beer. What do you want, babe?” he asked confidently, his eyes now locked on Ian. Ian raised his eyebrows and smirked. 

“I’ll have uh...just a Coke for me, please,” he gave Sean a tight-lipped smile. Sean nodded as he wrote their orders. 

“And what kind of beer would you like, sir?” he asked Mickey. Mickey stared blankly for a few seconds before Sean awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Um...we have Miller, Bud, Cor-”

“Whatever’s cheapest,” Mickey interrupted. Sean nodded and walked away. 

“The hell was that, _babe_?” Ian asked laughing. 

Mickey shrugged. “Fucker was flirting with you. What else was I supposed to do?” he asked rhetorically. 

Ian smiled and shook his head. “He’s probably too scared to come back. Now we’ll never get to eat.” 

“Good. Maybe they’ll send a fuckin’ girl this time. Nothing to worry about there,” Mickey said as he opened the menu. 

“Whatcha thinking?” Ian asked.

“The cheapest steak they got,” Mickey answered, clearly horrified by the prices. 

“Don’t worry about the money. Just get what you want,” Ian told him. 

“Oh, look at you, mister fancy pants,” Mickey said with raised eyebrows. “It’s alright. I’m not that hungry.”

Ian knew that wasn’t true. Sean returned to their table with their drinks and Mickey sighed dramatically.

“Are you guys ready to order?” he asked, pen and paper in hand. 

“I think so,” Ian answered. “I’ll have the ten-piece basket of spicy chicken wings, please.”

Sean nodded, writing it down. “And for you, sir?” he asked Mickey.

“The uh...eight-ounce steak,” he replied. After a moment’s hesitation and a glare from Ian, “Oh. Uh, please.”

“And how would you lik-” Sean began to ask before he was interrupted by Ian.

“I’m sorry, he’ll take the twenty ounce. Don’t listen to him if he says otherwise,” he told Sean. Sean nodded hesitantly and wrote it down. 

“How would you like it?” he asked Mickey.

“Real fuckin’ rare,” he answered after frowning at Ian. Sean finished writing.

“Got it. I’ll be back with your guys’ orders,” he said as he grabbed the menus. Mickey looked at Ian disappointedly.

“I told you I wasn’t that hungry.”

“Good thing I knew you were lying,” Ian replied quickly. “I told you not to worry about the money. I meant it.” 

Neither of them said anything for a bit. 

“Fine. But next time your ass is getting spoiled,” Mickey said assuredly. 

“So there’s a next time?” Ian asked blithely. Mickey shrugged. 

“Assuming you don’t end up running off with Sean, sure.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “You get real jealous, huh?” he asked snarkily. Mickey looked around the room uncomfortably.

“‘Course I do,” he mumbled. 

That nearly broke Ian’s heart. 

He reached across the table and held Mickey’s hand. “Hey, it’s alright. You got no reason to be. I’m yours, Mick. All yours.” 

He kept hold of Mickey’s hand and squeezed it tighter when Sean came back with their food.


	3. Fuck the Third Date

Mickey was unable to suppress his moans of pleasure every time he took a bite of his steak. 

“Fuck. Fuuuck, this shit is so good. I feel like this is a dream and I’m gonna wake up crying like some little bitch,” he said, his mouth full. Ian sat and admired him as his untouched chicken grew cold in front of him. 

“You want a bite?” Mickey asked, holding his fork up to Ian. 

“Sure.” 

Mickey smiled. “Open up, buttercup,” he said as he fed Ian the steak. Ian’s face lit up with delight as he chewed.

“Shit. You weren’t kidding.” Mickey nodded knowingly and continued eating. Sean began walking towards their table and Ian saw Mickey tense up slightly. He grabbed his hand and ran his thumb across it, hoping to soothe him. Sean quickly glanced down at them holding hands and put on his painfully fake smile.

“How is everything tonight?” he asked kindly. Mickey was about to give him a smartass reply when he felt Ian kick him under the table. 

“Motherf-” he stopped himself in fear of getting kicked again. Now Mickey was the one with the fake smile. “Just...fine,” he said through gritted teeth. Sean laughed awkwardly and nodded before walking away quickly. 

“Hell was that for?” Mickey whispered harshly. 

“You got that look in your eye like you were about to rip him a new one. _What else was I supposed to do_?” he said, mocking Mickey’s previous excuse. Mickey said nothing and looked down at their hands, then smiled faintly. 

“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be...nice or whatever the fuck it is you want me to be.”

“Thank you,” Ian said, looking sincerely into Mickey’s eyes. 

“Don’t say I never fucking did anything for you,” he said, returning to his usual brash self. Ian smiled that smile that only Mickey ever saw and let go of his hand. 

They ate in silence for a short while, then Mickey spoke. 

“This gonna be a regular thing we do?” he asked, trying his best to seem nonchalant.

“Do you want it to be?”

He avoided Ian’s eyes and bit his cheek. 

“Asked you first.”

Ian raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Mickey said nothing and began eating again. 

“Mickey, you know I live for this shit. It’ll be a regular thing we do for as long as you want it to be,” Ian said, trying to get Mickey to look at him. Finally, he put his fork down and looked at Ian with a small smile. 

“I’m never gonna finish this fucking steak.”

“It’s alright,” Ian said. “We’ll take it home.”

Mickey nodded and wiped his mouth. Sean was walking towards their table and Ian was pleasantly surprised to see Mickey look almost the opposite of hostile.

“You guys all done here?”

“Yeah,” Mickey answered calmly.

“Need any boxes?”

“Two, please,” Ian said nodding. 

“Got it. I’ll be back with the bill,” Sean said, now too scared to even look at Ian. 

Ian and Mickey snickered once he was gone.

“You really fucked him up, Mick.”

“Not my fault he’s a fuckin’ pussy who flirted with the wrong guy.”

He returned with the boxes and the bill, clearly confused as to who he should give it to. Ian raised his hand and Sean handed it to him, looking anywhere but his face. 

“Have a nice night, you guys,” he said before practically sprinting away. Ian got his wallet out while Mickey tried to peek at the bill. Ian caught him and snatched it before he could see the damage. 

“Bitch. Let me see,” Mickey demanded.

“I told you I got it,” Ian said, searching his wallet. Mickey was silent for a moment, then he lunged over the table and grabbed the bill from Ian’s hand.

“Hey!” Ian shouted.

“Jesus. Next time we’ll just dine and dash,” Mickey said, tossing the paper on the table defeatedly. 

“Fine by me,” Ian said as he placed four twenties on the table and grabbed his coat. Mickey grabbed the boxes and they walked out of the restaurant. 

Mickey groaned contentedly and rubbed his stomach. “I’m gonna be full for fuckin’ weeks. Why didn’t you eat?”

“Too busy watching you,” Ian answered straightforwardly. 

“Ah, fuck,” Mickey said sighing.

“What?”

“I love you.”

Ian smiled. “I love you too.”

\-----

They walked in comfortable silence for a while until Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked amusedly. 

“Fuck does it look like? Holding your fucking hand,” Mickey answered, unable to hide his grin. 

They walked hand in hand all the way back to the house, where Mickey let go and stopped at the porch. Ian was halfway through the door when he felt Mickey’s hand leave his. He turned around, confused, and was met with the most gentle kiss they had ever shared. It lasted for a few seconds and when they pulled apart they were both smiling.

“Date’s over,” Mickey murmured.

“Fuck yes it is,” Ian said. “Get your ass in here so we can fuck already.”

“What about the third date?” Mickey teased. 

“Fuck the third date,” Ian said as he pulled Mickey in the house and slammed the door.


End file.
